


Tôt ou Tard

by widowhunt



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humour, Marichat May, Marichat May 2019, adding tags as i add chapters ok thank u thank u for your patience, but i have a soft spot in my heart for marichat, i actually don't speak french fluently i'm a sham but i'm learning ok, i mean i love all renditions, my favourite of the love square
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-15 18:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18675472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widowhunt/pseuds/widowhunt
Summary: Sooner or later.—L'anthologie de Marinette et Chat Noir.





	1. tu es la beauté

**Author's Note:**

> 1 / 31: No powers.
> 
> —
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

In hindsight, Marinette supposed it was a bit too much to ask Hawkmoth to not akumatize someone this week. Or any week, for that matter. He was clearly just too desperate— judging from the weird akuma victims in the past (like, really? What did he expect a baby to do?). Considering her secret status as resident superhero, Marinette chose to ignore this as it would be inappropriate to support Hawkmoth’s workings, but she had it on good authority that there was a running pool for how many akumas Chloé _alone_ would be indirectly responsible for by the end of the school year.

Anyway, today wasn’t a particularly special day, so there really was no reason to hope that there wouldn’t be an akuma. Marinette was just _hoping_. And normally, there wouldn’t be a problem, because Hawkmoth tended to focus around Collège Françoise Dupont on an average day ( _weirdly_ — like how old is this guy? Did he ever outgrow secondary school?) so she could usually meet up with Chat Noir to take the akuma down and then get back to class without being missed. 

Nuh-uh.

Not this time. 

Class was definitely cancelled for the rest of the day, because Ladybug ain’t here— in fact, she’s currently trapped in a closet with a _detransformed Chat Noir_. 

You could understand why this was a problem. 

“I’m willing to admit that this isn’t an ideal situation, Princess,” he said, pressing himself up against the wall, as far away from her as he could conceivably get in a supply closet. To the untrained ear, he might have seemed relatively calm, but Marinette knew better. He was just trying to hide his freakout.

“Oh, yeah? You mean you didn’t intend to throw me in a closet and jump in after me? I particularly enjoyed that part.”

Okay, he didn’t. He did throw her into the closet when he’d seen her trying to distract the akuma (since she couldn’t get away to transform, of course), but he didn’t jump in after her. He, much like she, had been unceremoniously tossed into the closet by one of the akuma’s many tentacles. Another had shut the door behind them.

Near as Marinette could figure, the akuma was a slighted marine biologist who had been told his area of study— octopodes— wasn’t interesting. Marinette distinctly remembered a story she’d read online about an octopus escaping its tank to go munch on some fish from the tank adjacent before returning to its tank that made her disagree. 

He’d already tried to break open the door, but while he had the strength, he just didn’t have enough space to get the momentum to do it. Not to mention, it was too dark. The lights had gone out about half an hour ago, and that was no problem for him in the suit— he just wasn’t in the suit anymore. It was something she was painfully aware of ever since she’d seen the flash of transformation through her eyelids. 

“Chat— can you transform yet? I cannot stress enough how much we need to get this door open,” but how to explain her knowledge that Ladybug wasn’t coming? How to explain, without giving her identity away, that Ladybug _would not_ come unless they got out? She just had to trust that he wouldn’t ask questions, even to himself.

“Eager to get away from me? _Meow_ -ch.” There was a rustling sound as he presumably lifted his hand to press against his chest. She imagined he was making a faux hurt expression— she knew him too well to not know his mannerisms, even when he was around her as a civilian as opposed to Ladybug. 

She couldn’t quite keep the blush from rising to the apples of her cheeks. 

“I think I might be able to pick the lock, but it’s daytime, Chat…” 

“Yeah, I know— it’s dark in here, but you’ll see my face the second you open the door.” 

It wasn’t the first time since Chat had started dropping in on her balcony to say hi that she had ached to know who was behind the mask, but just like always, she knew it was irresponsible to want it. It could put him in danger. It could put _her_ in danger. And it wasn’t fair. For her to know who he was, but him not to know who she was. And really— that was the death knell to the question that rose to the tip of her tongue almost every time. 

She wasn’t sure she would be able to handle it if she showed him who she was and it changed everything, because it would. It made everything hard, the whole double life thing, but she knew what to expect (generally) when she was Marinette versus when she was Ladybug. She liked the Chat who opened up to her in the quiet confines of her bedroom when there was nothing else to draw his attention, unlike when they were on patrol together. She was afraid that that would change if her two lives became one. 

And then, of course, there was the whole issue of her near-debilitatingly low self-image compared to Ladybug’s— and yes, that was a completely different thing, because as Ladybug she _knew_ what she was capable of. She just couldn’t take it if someone found out that Marinette was Ladybug and then started expecting all kinds of great things from her because of it. 

And no, it was all fine, because it didn’t matter if Marinette’s self-esteem was all too low as long as Ladybug was doing her job right. She just didn’t want to disappoint anyone. 

So that was why she couldn’t just offer to let him out without looking at his face— it was too much of a risk, to have Marinette and Chat Noir go inside a closet and then have Marinette and… _whoever_ come out of it. Someone might see. _She_ might see. 

“How about you get working on the lock while I see what I can do?” Chat’s voice piped up, worry gnawing at his tone. “Ladybug will get here soon, I’m sure… I hope.” 

The pit in her stomach grew. 

She reached up, palm resting on his cheek and feeling the total absence of the edge of his mask like it was foreign territory. And Marinette couldn’t help but find where his eyes would be, approximately, even though neither of them could see the other. 

“It’ll be okay. Just like always. You’ll be a badass and save the day and Ladybug… she’ll show up. Just gotta get you out of here first.” 

Without giving him a chance to respond, Marinette knelt by the door, digging in her purse (and making a mental note to apologize to Tikki for jostling her around) for one of her spare bobby pins, drawing it out without a flourish. She felt kind of ridiculous, feeling around for the door handle, but eventually she heard the _click_ of the lock as it freed them. 

“Ready, Chat?” 

The only response she got was a, “Plagg, claws out!” and a flash of green light that seared her sight and left an afterimage of a big black spot as he became the superhero she knew and loved. 

“Ready when you are, Princess. You’re an everyday Ladybug, you know that?” He couldn’t have disguised the awe in his voice any less than he did, and this time she _really_ couldn’t help the flush that kissed her face. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that one before. On three,” she said, ready to twist the handle and let him free. And on the count of three, they burst out of the closet, Chat Noir taking off in the direction the akuma was last heading in before they got trapped, and Marinette left to watch him go. 

He was… just incredible. She’d have to remember to tell him that more often. She didn’t think that he really understood just how much she needed him, in every aspect of her life. It always bugged her how little credit others gave to him when it came to saving the world, but there were so many times that she didn’t think that she would have been able to do it without it. He acted like it didn’t get to him, but she was pretty sure that he was just trying not to worry her.

“Marinette! Chat needs Ladybug,” a small voice reminded her, bringing out of her thoughts, and Marinette quickly ducked back into the closet to transform. She had a date with her _minou_ — special dish on the menu? Octopus. 


	2. serre-moi fort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 / 31: Greek AU.
> 
> —
> 
> I absolutely adore Greek Mythology and I wanted to jump at the chance to make it happen, but I also wanted these chapters to all be linked in some way, so I had to exercise my self-restraint. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

“So, what’s up with this Titan named Phoebe? Did they run out of fancy names? What’s her deal?” 

Marinette snorted, flipping through the textbook laid open on her lap and giving Alya an amused look through her lashes. 

“Who knows. Meanwhile, in the same generation: Mnemosyne.” She grinned as Alya snickered and continued her search for more content on her laptop. 

The pairs project they had on Greek Mythology wasn’t due for another couple of weeks, but with Marinette’s habit of disappearing spontaneously and being late even more, it eased both their minds to get an early start on it. Alya had insinuated that Nino, who was paired with Adrien, was more-so excited about having a legitimate reason (in Monsieur Agreste’s eyes, or at least his assistant’s) to go over to Adrien’s place. Sure, they’d loosened up and let him out of the house more, but the Agreste Mansion was still an off-limits place, and they were all worried about how their friend fared in that kind of atmosphere. 

Marinette almost mourned the opportunity to work with him, but she loved Alya. And anyway, another pair of green eyes were on her mind as much as Adrien’s were, so she figured… well, if nothing else, it’ll at least help her _relax_ around him. 

_And_ having Alya as a partner resulted in more sleepovers planned with the pretense of studying; Alya had mentioned a certain _Brad Pitt_ movie in front of the boys when they were at lunch that day, and they’d all had a laugh about Nino’s cap nearly flying off with how much he was _clearly_ trying to play it cool. 

Marinette really _liked_ her friends. 

“Get this, Apollo once was so enamoured by a tree nymph that he chased after her until she became a tree. Imagine being in love with a tree.” 

Marinette couldn’t help but laugh at the blunt tone of Alya’s voice. “Imagine being a slower runner than a tree.” 

“Ouch, I don’t think I could take the blow to my self-esteem.” 

“If Apollo’s bold enough to chase after a tree nymph, I’m sure he has plenty of ego to spare.” 

Dear gods, if you’re up there, don’t strike her down— the image of a certain kitty cat flickered into mind, and Marinette felt a pang of regret at even comparing the two of them, the soft-hearted superhero she knew and the lecherous god of too much to name. Once, she would have freely compared the pursuit of Daphne to the pursuit of Ladybug, but now she didn’t even want to give voice to the words. After so many conversations on her balcony, Chat baring his heart for Marinette to take care of, she now knew that he truly did love Ladybug as opposed to being the endless flirt she’d thought he was in the beginning. 

Oh, how it made her ache. 

Because she knew that as close as they were when she was in the mask, the Ladybug he knew wasn’t _her_. Not completely. It was all the best parts of her held together by all the expectations of Paris, and she wouldn’t have chosen to be a hero if she didn’t know it was up to her to save the day. She did love Chat— but where he had let her see him, she was just too scared to let him see Ladybug as Marinette was.

If he was Apollo, chasing after the vision of a woman with whom he’d fallen in love at first sight, then the tale changes. 

If she was Daphne, fleeing from his grasp whenever he got close enough to reach, then the tale changes. 

Because she would not call out to Mother Earth to change her into a laurel tree. And the tale has changed. 

After all this time, she knew that Chat Noir, for all his good heart and soft words, could capture her— he already had. He just didn’t know it yet because Marinette, in his heart, was eclipsed by the idea of Ladybug, just like Chat Noir had been eclipsed in hers by Adrien. 

Drawn out of her thoughts, Marinette became aware of a light tapping coming from her balcony, excusing herself from Alya with a casual, “I’ll be right back, I forgot to water my plants earlier.” 

She should have known that he would come. The sleepover had been impromptu, planned over lunch and without any means to contact Chat Noir, he wouldn’t have known that she would be busy. But no matter how dangerous it might be for one half of Paris’ superhero team to be so close to the creator of the _Ladyblog_ , Marinette’s heart still skipped a beat when she saw him standing there as she emerged onto her balcony.

The moon falling onto his blond hair, kissing the tops of his cheeks and nose. She imagined he had freckles, sometimes, when she idly wondered about what the rest of his face looked like. Would she be able to connect the dots and create constellations? Would Orion live again on his body? He’s so beautiful— that soft smile on his lips and the grace in his form, it took her breath away. 

“We have to be quiet,” she said, picking up her watering can and beginning to nurture the flora. Her voice was soft, her eyes catching on him despite the ease with which she pretends to focus on anything else but him. “Alya’s inside— you know, the Ladyblog?” 

“I didn’t know she would be here,” he replied, but there was something in his tone that curiously made her think otherwise.

“We’re working on a project. Greek Mythology. It was kinda a last minute thing.” 

She was hyperaware of him as he approached. Something was different today— a tenderness that Marinette rarely ever felt directed towards her, but something that she was familiar with when she was Ladybug.

“I’ll be on my way soon, Princess,” he was all too close for Marinette to pass off their relationship as _casual friends_ , and she was suddenly glad that Alya had stayed inside. “I just wanted to check on my favourite civilian.” It was the regular spiel. The one that had led to so many deep conversations under the moonlight before waking up in her own bed with no memory of how she got there.

“Well, you’ve checked on me, kitten. I’d love to talk, but…” She nodded her head towards her bedroom, indicating Alya left unsupervised and able to sneak up on them at any moment. As much as Marinette loved her, she wasn’t prepared to explain why Chat Noir was giving her personal visits. “Mind finishing up the plants for me before you go?”

Without waiting for an answer, Marinette gently pushed the half-full watering can into his hands, raising herself up on her toes to plant a light kiss on his cheek. And yeah, maybe her smile as she pulled away and descended the trap door into her bedroom was a bit coy. Because, well…

Maybe Daphne was onto something with the chase. 


	3. ma petit famille

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 / 31: Kittens.

So, okay. It’s not like she _tries_ to get involved in heroism before _8h30_ , but sometimes, you just don’t have a choice. Like Stoneheart— she’d tried to give Alya the Miraculous, but Alya hadn’t found the box in her bag and Marinette had to step up to the plate again. _C’est la vie_. 

At least this time it had absolutely nothing to do with an akuma and everything to do with the lady who’d caught Marinette’s eye on her walk to school. She seemed kind of shifty, like she was doing something that she wasn’t supposed to be doing, and only by chance did Marinette look up in time to see the woman place a cardboard box in an alley. She’d slowed her walk just enough to wait for the woman to swiftly walk away, and once she was gone Marinette made a beeline for the box. 

It wasn’t very well hidden. If she hadn’t been so blindsided by what she saw inside, Marinette probably would have thought that the woman _wanted_ it to be found. That said, instead of thinking, she (justifiably, in her opinion) felt her mind go blank with anger. 

“I— _cette salope!_ ” Pardon her fucking French. 

* * *

_Okay, so_ , she panicked, honestly.

Marinette was late again ( _quelle surprise_ ). Nobody really expected her to burst into the classroom holding a box the size of her torso, completely disrupting the class. Getting the box to fit in between her desk and the one behind was a whole production that everyone stopped to watch, and only once she’d sat down did she fold her hands in her lap and stare straight ahead. But hey, at least she’d offered Madame Bustier a quiet apology. 

From that point on, one could expect that the class was quite average, yes? Well… no. Marinette kept glancing down towards the box by her feet, brows furrowed and bottom lip between her teeth. She was completely aloof to Adrien’s presence in front of her. These were Alya’s first two signs that something wasn’t right. 

About fifteen minutes after her dynamic entrance, Alya turned to her best friend, piercing her under a reporter’s gaze. 

“Spill, girl.” 

Marinette floundered for a minute, glancing at Madame Bustier cautiously before leaning in to whisper to her friend. 

“I found kittens.” 

Now this, understandably, was not what Alya was expecting to hear, but being a clever girl she put it together rather quickly and glanced down to the box. 

“You mean…” 

“Mademoiselles Cèsaire, Dupain-Cheng… do you have something to share with the class?” 

They winced. Turned to the front. And then Marinette stood, kneeling to shuffle the box out of its place and gently laying it on top of her desk, turning to the rest of the class. 

“Well, um— does anyone want a kitten?” 

Adrien was perhaps ( _purr-_ haps) the first one out of his seat to look inside the box, but the rest of the class was quick on their feet to follow, crowding around the box with curiosity. 

Inside were eight kittens, barely old enough to open their eyes, wriggling around as they tried to crawl over each other in their quest to suss out their surroundings. Three of them were white, spotted orange and black. Two were all orange with the brightest blue eyes. Two were all white, one curled up in the corner of the box, snoozing. And the last, the smallest, was all black. 

It was at that point that Madame Bustier must have decided to forgo the lesson that day and instead spend it reviewing a kitten’s needs (with significant help from Google, as she was a collège teacher and not a kitten rescuer by trade)— seven students had laid claim to a kitten, and none of them could be expected to focus on the lesson now. Rose had taken an orange kitten, Juleka a white kitten. Sabrina wanted one of the calicos, as did Mylène and Nathaniel. Alix and Nino took the last white and orange kittens respectively. 

Adrien had begged off, saying that his father wouldn’t have allowed him to keep the kitten (which was realistic), and Lila claimed (somewhat less realistically) that she spent too much time saving animals to take in another one. Chloé had spoken for the black kitten— she’d already decided to name it Ladybug in honour of Chat Noir’s partner when Marinette apologized.

“I’m sorry, Chloé,” this was debatable— she wasn’t convinced that Chloé actually wanted the kitten more than she wanted to look better than Lila. “I already promised the black kitten to a friend.” 

And that was the end of that. 

* * *

Chat Noir found out that evening that the friend Marinette had spoken of was, in fact, _herself_ , when he landed on her balcony that evening.

“Ah, bup-bup— _non, chèrie_ , stay over here, with _Maman_. _Grand-mère_ and _Grand-père_ are busy in the bakery, we can’t have your fluff getting all over the pastries.” 

This girl was the most precious person he’d ever met. How she’d dropped everything to rescue a couple of kittens in need was just the cherry on top, let alone the icing on the cake. She was always so sweet and so kind. There was something about her that was so familiar to him that he didn’t get to see every day as Adrien; he didn’t need to put his finger on it to appreciate her, but he wished that he could. So he could try to coax it out of her outside the confines of her bedroom— or her balcony. Sometimes, it seemed like nobody else saw that part of her. 

Tapping on her window, he caught her attention and felt like his heart was doing backflips at the sight of her smile. 

“Chat! Come in, it’s open.” As he entered, he realized quite quickly why she couldn’t get up right then. She was sitting on the floor with her legs forming a diamond, a makeshift barrier for the small kitten to roam within without getting into trouble. 

He had a feeling she hadn’t chosen to keep the black kitten by chance. The idea did funny things to his stomach. 

“Evening, Princess,” he’d of course seen her kitten in class that day, but to her knowledge, Chat didn’t. So he sat with crossed legs, close enough for their knees to touch and leaned down to gently scratch under the kitten’s chin. “Who’s your new friend?” 

Marinette’s response to his question was to pick up the small thing and hold him out for Chat to hold.

“I haven’t given him a name yet. Ideas?” 

“Junior?” Well, of course he had to. 

Surprisingly, instead of smacking his arm like he’d expected, the apples of her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. 

“What about… _Nuit_? Nuit Noir?” She didn’t seem to meet his eyes, instead reaching out to scratch behind Nuit’s ears. 

Chat was reeling. His world was spinning around his ears, and the epicentre of it all was this amazing girl sitting across from him. He’d felt like something had changed in the last couple of months, ever since he’d started dropping in on her in the evenings, but he hadn’t realized just how much until very recently. Marinette was always important to him, as his close friend, but lately he’d begun to think about how… _acutely_ it affected him whenever there was a change in her mood. When she was happy, he was happy. When she was sad, he ached for her. It took so _much_ of his self-control not to rise to Lila’s bait when he found out she was hurting Marinette, and for all the forgiveness that Adrien could spare, he couldn’t find it within himself to give it to Lila. All because of how it had hurt his Princess. 

And now, watching her react to the curious nose boop he received from little Nuit, the starry eyes that are so at home on her features… there was no more _if it wasn’t for Ladybug_ , for him. 

“Well,” he finally croaked out. “Little Nuit has to have a good cat-figure in his life.” Which would be wholly unrelated to what they were talking about, if he wasn’t certain that there was a very different question being asked. 

He felt like he got it right, judging from the smile he got in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't feel like it needs to be said that taking care of kittens that young is NOT as easy as just taking them home. Ideally, they wouldn't even be separated from their mother until they were old enough to be weaned, and if they are then it's safest for the kittens to have a kitten rescuer or foster family until that point. Please, if you're ever in this situation, make the best decision for the kittens - it's inadvisable to just pass the kittens (especially ones this young) out in class like Marinette did in this instalment, but I took creative liberties.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> Index:  
> C'est la vie - "that's life"  
> Quelle surprise - "what a surprise"  
> Cette salope - roughly, "that bitch/slut/cunt". (In this context, Marinette would have been using it as "that bitch," because really, how heartless do you have to be to abandon a box of kittens?)


	4. (tu es mon) cadeau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4 / 31: Birthday.

Marinette liked birthdays, but liked them significantly more when they were not her own. It wasn’t that she disliked hers— heavens, no. She appreciated the thought that her friends put into their gifts, and her parents always made a point of treating her like a princess. Not that that was any different than an average day, but it still felt a bit more special. So she didn’t dislike her birthday. It was just that… Marinette was more of a giver rather than a receiver. She felt _good_ when she made or found something that someone she cared about would like, and she didn’t know what to _do_ when the thought was returned. 

It’s not that she didn’t have friends until collège, because she did. She just didn’t really have _close_ friends. She flitted between social circles (as much as little kids could have clearly defined social circles) and made friends with everyone, she had birthday parties that would rival _Chloé’s_ in attendance, but she didn’t have the closeness that she had wanted. 

It was the day that she’d met Alya and Adrien that everything had changed. 

With the courage of Ladybug in her veins, she didn’t need anyone to stand up to Chloé for her, but it felt good that Alya would do it, indignant at her latest slight. Adrien was always so thoughtful and considerate, going the extra mile for his close friends, and she was grateful to be considered one of them despite the fact that for a long time she couldn’t string two words together around him. And then there was Nino— his close friendship with Adrien brought him closer to Marinette as well, and she was grateful for that too. She still remembered when they were kids and he was afraid of catching cooties from her. 

But it was Chat Noir that made her feel that her birthday wasn’t so average. 

They weren’t quite cuddling, but they were closer than friends should be; the laptop set at the foot of her bed illuminated her room in flickers with the changing scenes. He’d come to see her that night, wrapped gift in hand, and since they couldn’t just go to a café she’d suggested they watch something on Netflix. Marinette was sure he was paying attention, but her mind was far off in a distant land.

It was strange to let go of Adrien— not that he didn’t still have a place in her heart. She’d just moved him to the same place where Alya and Nino resided. He’d always make her heart flutter somewhat, but Marinette’s feelings had changed over the past months and she’d long felt it was unfair to Chat for her to be pursuing another when… 

Well, when _nothing_ , really. She and Chat had never talked about what they _were_ , and it seemed like they were both okay with that. Whatever was going through his mind was an unknown, but she had at least observed that he hadn’t been flirting with Ladybug as much as he had in the past; there was a point where his cute nicknames and advances had lost the emotional charge to them. He still called her _My Lady_ and made flirty comments, but there was no weight to them. 

Marinette felt like James Bond, knowing this about them— Chat didn’t know that she knew about his and Ladybug’s relationship. He’d asked once why she was so comfortable with them not having a _label_ when the Ladyblog was still going strong with the LadyNoir theories, and Marinette had simply smiled and pressed her lips to his knuckles. 

_‘Because I know you,’_ she’d said, _‘and I know you’re not like that.’_

He really was a one-cat type of kitten. And anyway, he’d stopped feeling so agonized over it when Marinette had simply pointed out that if he was so concerned over her safety, then Paris assuming he and Ladybug were together would keep attention off of herself. 

He deserved a one-kitten type of cat. Marinette doubted that Adrien would notice the lack of horribly failed flirting, because she’d never mustered up the nerve to tell him how she felt, so he wouldn’t be missing out on anything. Alya had been bewildered but proud when Marinette had told her she would be focusing on developing a friendship with Adrien first, rather than jumping straight into romance. She never told Nino, but she’d noticed the suspicious looks that he’d shot between her and Adrien in class, so she assumed that Alya had told him; she didn’t really know what was going on in his head, but if it was important… Alya would tell her. 

“Are you even paying attention?” cut through her thoughts, amusement underlaying his tone, nose nudging her temple as he spoke. The heat of his breath kissed her cheekbone, bringing a flush to her face. 

“Maybe…” but his suspicious— playful— look cut through her weak defense and it crumbled entirely. “Don’t _look_ at me like that, _Chaton_ , I’m just thinking.” 

He swayed with her shoulder nudge, stars in his eyes and a curl to his lips that made her heart skip a few beats. 

“Euro for your thoughts?” 

“I believe the expression is _penny_ , Chat.”

He took her hand, brushing his lips to her fingers and resting it against his cheek. He always _did_ this kind of thing; the affectionate gestures that came oh so naturally to him and overloaded her senses. Marinette was convinced that he was trying to adapt her to it, but while she expected it, she never got used to it. 

“We don’t have pennies, Princess, and your thoughts are worth so much more than that.” 

She shuffled in bed, settling onto her side so she could get a better look at him despite the fact that it gave him a better look at the blush colouring her cheeks. 

“Will you let me celebrate your birthday with you?” 

He paused. The stutter in her chest crept back, but this time there was a slight tightening of her lungs that made it hard to breathe. He looked too uncertain. The matter of his secret identity was a topic they carefully tread around, not acknowledging it on a good day and bickering about it on a bad day. It was rather hypocritical of her, but she couldn’t help but want to know who had her heart; she wanted to know her heart was safe, walking around Paris without a care in the world. 

The two sides of her were at war. Ladybug argued that it was unsafe, and Marinette _knew_ that— that’s why she would never ask who he was. It was just unfair that everyone else got to parade their person around and she didn’t. 

“I mean, I know you can’t tell me much. But hundreds of people in Paris have birthdays every day… and we don’t even have to celebrate on the _actual_ day. I just thought… well, you’ve done so much for me, and I know your home life leaves a lot to be desired— I’m _pretty_ sure I’m gonna fight your _père_ one day— but I want to make sure that you’re not alone…” 

He stopped her with a finger to her lips, minding the claw of his glove. The pain in her chest eased, breath coming to her with a heady rush. She almost thought that he was going to kiss her— but he hadn’t kissed her yet, and Marinette privately thought that when they had their first kiss, the explosion would be felt for kilometres. 

“Nettle… _yes_.” 

The promise was worth more to her as a birthday gift than the expensive fabrics he’d given to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really love the idea of Chat calling Marinette any variation of "Nette" like "Nettie" "Nettle" (my fave) etc. He can't use Princess allll the time. I truly feel like Chat would call her one of three things aside from Princess: "mon chou/ma choute/choupinette", which means "my sweet bun" (she lives in a bakery...) and "minette", which is a feminine form of kitty (he is a cat, she is his love), and "ma souris" which is mouse (self-explanatory). But like, Chat would probably have a million cute names ready to go at all times. 
> 
> I also discovered recently that "minou" and "chaton" are common pet names for a boyfriend in France, so I don't think Adrien would find it strange that Marinette would use the same nicknames for Chat as Ladybug does. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.


	5. mon chou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 / 31: Baking/cooking.
> 
> Just something very short today; I usually write a day or two in advance, but I saw Avengers: Endgame yesterday and I was... distraught. I will be seeing it again posthaste. 
> 
> Also, an update for future chapters: I will be completing this challenge, but I cannot say whether or not I will be updating daily. I have a significant schedule change beginning tomorrow, so I will have less free time for the foreseeable future! That said, If I don't update on one day, that chapter will be pushed to another day so there may be multiple updates on one day. 
> 
> That's all for me, so thanks for reading and hope you enjoy.

“Think you can be quiet, Chat?” 

“But of course, _minette_ , I _am_ a cat.” 

She reached out, fingertip touching the tip of his nose and flicking his bell. 

“C’mon— my parents are already asleep, so we have to be really quiet.” 

Earlier that day, she had laid out many silver bowls of varying sizes, preparing the ingredients they’d need for her plan. He’d said the night before that he’d never had the opportunity to play around in a kitchen— his father had kept a chef on staff ever since his mother had disappeared. First of all, it was yet _another_ reason that Marinette wanted to actually, physically fight his father. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know who he was. But ultimately, until the day that she has the chance to confront him for Chat’s frankly abysmal childhood, she needed to settle for giving him the experiences that he’d missed out on. 

She led him down the ladder and all the way to the kitchen, watching his face carefully as she displayed their destination. His eyes widened, lips pulling into a smile as he recognized what her plan was. He looked like a kid again and Marinette felt a pang in her chest. 

“I thought we could make cookies…” 

Chat took her face in his hands, pressing a tender kiss to the centre of her forehead. 

“As long as you’re supervising, Princess.” 

An hour later found Marinette and Chat sitting on her balcony with a plate piled up with warm chocolate chip cookies, flour in their hair and worked into the fibres of her clothes— Chat had won the flour fight that had broken out purely due to the fact that his suit was magic and seemed to repel the flour that hit him. Marinette, on the other hand, looked very, very dusty. 


End file.
